“This is how it was meant to be.” Caleb yawned and nestled into her. He couldn’t keep his eyes open.
“I think so, too.”
“Fool,” Caleb heard Weber say, but was too tired to argue.“You stupid, crazy fool.”
enee looked down the pizza that had been delivered to the house, the sight and smell of the pile of dough, meat, and cheeses making her nauseous. Except for a couple of cops guarding the property outside, Jenee and Alvaraz were the only ones in the house. If Jenee’s phone rang, the police would intercept the call at the station.
“It’s almost ten,” Jenee said to Alvaraz, who was working on a computer set up on the kitchen table. “It’s been almost twenty-four hours since Caleb took Ling.”
“I know,” Alvaraz commented. “But at least the Coast Guard has somewhat of a radius. Ling said N thirty and W twenty, but we didn’t get the last part of coordinate.”
Jenee sat up straight. “So they can find them?”
“Haven’t yet, but they know they’re outside of LA and going south.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“It’s just a matter of time,” Alvaraz looked up from the computer. “It’s what they might find is what I’m afraid of.”
“What do you mean?”
“Caleb has a gun and—” Alvaraz’s phone rang and she picked it up quickly. “Alvaraz,” she said and listened. “Okay.” She glanced at Jenee. “So, now what?”
Jenee held her breath and waited until Alvaraz hung up. “Anything?”
“There’s a complication.”
Jenee’s heart raced even faster. “Is it Ling? Did they find them?”
Alvaraz paused for a long few seconds. “There’s a storm brewing.”
Jenee stared at her.
“Not just any storm,” the detective said, and scratched her chin. “Winds are reaching hurricane speed.”
Jenee slowly stood. “And Ling is in it?”
“It appears so.”
“So, the Coast Guard is trying to get to them faster, right?”
Alvaraz shook her head. “They’re going to wait until morning to start the search again. That is, if the winds die down.”
“They can’t wait until morning.” Jenee put a hand on the back of her neck. “Caleb might take another direction … Ling might never call again … we might never know—”
“I know all that,” Alvaraz snapped. “But the Coast Guard can’t risk losing their own people. This storm is a big one. Winds are gusting at sixty miles an hour already, and it looks as if it’s only going to get worse.”
“What about Ling?” Jenee said angrily. “Isn’t the Coast Guard supposed to save people?” She put her hands down on the table. “What about a helicopter?”
“A copter will have the same winds to deal with.”
“But I’ve seen movies where they rescue tons of people on ships during these kinds of conditions,” Jenee argued.
“That’s why they’re movies,” Alvaraz said. “And it’s different if there are hundreds of people on board.”
Jenee’s icy stare glared through Alvaraz. “What are you, some kind of robot?” She leaned over the table toward her. “Do you even give a shit whether Ling lives or dies?”
“Wait a minute.” Alvaraz’s eyes met Jenee’s angry glare. “Do you know how many people I deal with every day? The most difficult part of my job is trying to convince everyone to do what they need to do.” She put her hand over her chest. “I’m one person. I can’t do it all.”
“But they aren’t fucking doing what they can.” Jenee gestured toward the door. “What they are saying is that my friend, Ling O’Toole, is not worth saving. They’re—” Her heart stopped when the ring of her phone cut into her words. “Oh, Jesus, God, please.” She raced to her phone and glanced at the caller ID. “It’s him.”
“Remember … third ring.”
Jenee closed her eyes briefly, blew out a breath, and answered. “Caleb?”
“It’s Ling,” Ling said.
“Ling? I can hardly hear you.”
Alvaraz grabbed the phone and quickly put the call on speaker. “Ling?”
“The waves,” Ling said, barely audible, “they’re coming … over … top … boat.”
“You’re going in and out. Where’s Caleb?”
“Asleep … I … don’t … how long he’ll be … so … scared.”
“Caleb’s asleep?” Alvaraz asked.
“ … sleeping pills … put them … drink.” A continuous roar of thunder played behind Ling’s voice.
“I want you to hang up and put Caleb’s phone on vibrate. Maybe on a different phone we can get rid of some of this static.”
“But—”
“Listen,” Alvaraz ordered. “I’m going to call you back and do a three-way with the Coast Guard. I don’t want Caleb to hear it ring.”
“Okay.”
Jenee chewed on her thumbnail as Alvaraz took out her phone and dialed. “Yeah, hang on,” Alvaraz said, looked down at Jenee’s cell and dialed Caleb’s number. “Ling? You there?” The detective switched the phone to speaker mode.
“Yes.”
Just by hearing the sound of the waves hitting the boat and the howling wind through the speaker, Jenee knew Ling was not just in trouble, but big trouble. She felt like she was going to throw up, but didn’t have anything in her stomach to get rid of.
“Coast Guard is on the other line,” Alvaraz said evenly to Ling. “They’re going to ask you some questions.”
“Ma’am,” a deep voice said, “does your husband have a weapon?”
“Yes … has a … ” Static covered her words.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that last part,” the man said.
“Gun!”
“Can you get to it?” he asked.
Alvaraz glanced at Jenee. “You okay?” she whispered.
Jenee nodded, although she wasn’t okay and wouldn’t be until Ling was safe.
“If … I … back … down … he … wake up.”
“Can you see the GPS?” he asked.
“Boat … off. If I start … he … might hear …” The fury of the wind and tide echoed loudly.
“Do you know if there are flares on board?” the male voice asked.
“Flares? I … think … ”
“Usually they’re in the benches at the back of the boat. They’ll probably say Orion on them. Look like a large magic marker. Red top.”
Jenee heard muffled sounds; maybe Ling was trying to make her way to the benches. With over sixty mile-an-hour winds, she could easily be thrown overboard.
They heard a loud thud. “Ohhhh,” Ling cried.
“What’s going on?” Jenee whispered, her heart pounding.
Alvaraz shook her head.
A few seconds later, Ling said, “I fell … lost … phone.”
“You all right?” the male voice asked.
“Trying to open … bench.” A loud crash reverberated through the speaker. “Got them,” Ling said, winded.
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Don’t take the top off and light them until I tell you. I’m hoping we’ll be able to spot you, as we do have a general idea of where you are.”
“Do … light … ”
“Yes, you’ll have to light them. You have a lighter somewhere?”
“I don’t … ”
Jenee could barely hear Ling. The storm must be getting worse, as the noise was now a continual roar.
“We used … have … somewhere. I need … phone down … crawl to back … winds … strong … ”
Jenee stood frozen during the long moments of hearing only the blasts wind and growls of thunder. Ling must be looking for a lighter.
“I … one,” Ling said.
“Okay. I think you said you found one. Can you see a shoreline? Anything?”
“No,” Ling said tearfully. “Rain … hard.”
“Okay, according to how fast the wind is blowing, and the
coordinates you gave Detective Alvaraz, I think the Guard is close.”
“ … afraid,” Ling cried. “He’s … kill me … if … finds …”
“Keep the faith and keep on the line until we have you in sight.”
“ … Jenee there?”
Jenee glanced at Alvaraz and the detective nodded, telling Jenee to talk to Ling.
“I’m here, hon,” Jenee shouted, and hoped Ling couldn’t tell by her voice how scared she was.
“ … kids okay?”
“They’re fine. Your mom has them at the carriage house.”
“Justin … and … ”
“They’re fine, too.” She had to stay calm for Ling, but inside Jenee was a mess. “You just worry about you.”
“Mrs. O’Toole,” the Coast Guard interrupted, “your boat … does it have a door that seals off the cabin underneath?”
“Yes.”
“Can you see anything that you might be able to bar it with? Just in case your husband wakes up?”
“… opens … from inside … can’t … ” Ling said, her voice growing more and more terrified.
“Do you see anything you could use as a weapon?”
“ … think … oars … somewhere.”
“Okay, I think you said you have some oars. Get those if you can, but don’t use the life raft. With these winds, you won’t make it.”
Jenee closed her eyes and prayed a silent prayer that they would get to Ling in time.
“Put on a life jacket if you can find one,” the male voice told her.
The continual clatter, probably caused by the harrowing waves hitting the sides of boat and the frightening echo of the high winds reminded Jenee of the tornado that wiped out half of Topeka when she was younger. Ling had to be terrified. She was all alone in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with a madman.
“Okay,” Ling wheezed. “… I’ll try … ”
“Mrs. O’Toole?” the man asked after a few seconds. “You there?”
Jenee held her breath.
“Ling?” Alvaraz shouted.
Nothing.
“I’ll try calling her back,” Alvaraz said.
“Okay. I’ll keep the line clear,” the Coast Guard attendant said.
Keeping the cell on speaker mode, Alvaraz dialed. After the fourth ring, it went into Caleb’s voicemail. She hung up and dialed again, but the call went directly to voicemail.
Feeling light-headed, Jenee slowly sunk into a chair.
Alvaraz turned the speaker off and dialed again. “Can you check and see if the last number I called is working?” she asked as she paced. “And hurry.” A few seconds later, Alvaraz closed the phone and set it on the counter.
“What?” Jenee held her breath.
“Caleb’s line isn’t working.”
Jenee felt the bile rise in her throat.
“Phone probably hasn’t been charged,” Alvaraz said, a worried look in her eyes that Jenee hadn’t noticed before.
“Now what?” Jenee asked, but didn’t know if she was ready to hear the answer.
“Just pray the Coast Guard finds her before Caleb does.”
ing cried softly. “Please … please.” She shook the phone, but the dark screen remained. What the hell was she going to do now? There wasn’t time for tears. Ling had to figure this out. She pushed the cell phone into her back pocket, hoping if she got it out of the rain, it would work.
She leaned over and pushed her hand into the pocket beside the driver’s seat and felt the flares and lighter. She had to find a place that would offer some protection as the wind was whipping rain in every direction
She put one hand on the console, the other on the back of the seat for support, the brutal sways of the boat flipped her one way, then another, and back again. The water was pouring over the side of the boat and a puddle of water swirled around her ankles.
A sudden jolt sent her flying into the dashboard. “Oh, God.” When she looked up, Ling stopped breathing when she found herself looking straight down into the ocean, the bow at a 180-degree angle.
Her feet off the floorboard, her torso teetering over the control panel, she was going to die, and there was nothing she could do stop it. Another abrupt crash sent the yacht out of the nose dive and Ling fell backward, landing hard on the deck.
Hysterical, she struggled to her knees. Frantically searching for somewhere to hide, when she spotted a small space, she crawled to the opening underneath the control panel. In order to fit inside, Ling had to hunch her back, scoot backward, and bring her knees up to her chin.
The winds were getting stronger, the waves soaring higher and higher. Shivering, she’d never felt so alone or so afraid.
Ling swiped the water out of her burning eyes, reached into her pocket and brought out the cell. “Oh, God, please.” She jiggled the phone, praying it would light up, but her prayers went unanswered.
Another mountain-sized wave rocked the boat violently, sending the cell flying out of her hand. Quickly reaching up, she grasped the steering wheel above her. Feeling the boat starting to tilt, Ling locked her bare feet against the base of the driver’s seat and held her breath. It’s Okay … she tried to believe … everything will be okay.
When the brutal swaying calmed, she let go of the wheel. Her chest pounding, her ribs still on fire from the fall she’d taken when Caleb had pushed her down the stairs, she had to make it to the back of the boat to light the flares.
Slowly, Ling worked her way out from underneath the control panel. Using the seat for leverage, she finally made it to a standing position. Looking out the plastic window next to the driver’s seat, Ling had never seen anything like this before; not even in a movie. Wall after wall of ferocious waves were unending, each one more powerful than the next; bolts of lightning sizzled in every direction, and the fierce thunder completed the morbid scene. The yacht was being tossed around as if it was a toy with Ling as its hostage.
She had no idea how long the Ambien that she’d found in the medicine cabinet, crushed up, and tossed into Caleb’s gin would keep him knocked out. She needed to hurry.
The man from the Coast Guard had told her to wait until he said to light the flares. It had to have been a good ten to fifteen minutes since Ling lost contact with the detective. Was the Coast Guard near? Had they stopped searching? She gulped back tears. He’d also told her to put on a life jacket, but she had no idea where they were. Maybe Caleb had destroyed them so she wouldn’t try and get away. Her mind raced. The gun. Maybe she should try and get it? Ling quickly accessed the pros and cons, deciding against it. Even if she did manage to get the weapon, she wouldn’t be able to shoot anyone; not even Caleb.
She bent over, and grasped the flares and lighter out of the side pocket next to the driver’s seat. Looking to the back of the boat, she saw that the torrential downfall wasn’t letting up. Ling had to make a choice; go back underneath the cockpit and pray someone would find her before Caleb did, or take a chance, knowing she could go overboard while trying to get help. Unless a miracle happened, there was no way anyone would find her unless she somehow let them know where she was.
After she pushed the lighter into her back pocket, holding the flares tight in one hand, she stumbled into the aisle between the passenger and driver’s seats. Suddenly propelled forward, her arm smashed between her chest and the control panel, a gut-wrenching pain traveled from her shoulder and down through her arm. “Oh, no.” She shook her head, trying to move her fingers. “No … no … no.” Oh God, was her arm broken?
Feeling angrier than Ling had every felt in her life, she tilted her head back. “Fuck you, Caleb!” she screamed into the raging storm. “You are not going to win, you son-of-a-bitch.”
Cradling her arm against her chest, still holding onto the flares, Ling started to make her way to the back. When the boat took an abrupt turn, she gasped, tossed the flares, barely catching the base of the seat before the boat turned on its side.
Kicking her feet in the pool that swirled around
her to try and stay in place, she fought to hold on. “Pleeaassse … stop.” If she let go, she’d be swept away.
Water gushed over the side, forcing its way into her nose and down her throat. Sputtering, Ling held on tight, each powerful swell pounding against her and prying mercilessly at her hand. Gasping for air, her hand numb from clutching the base so tight, one finger at a time was ripped loose … the little finger … the index finger … “Oh, God, please,” she begged, “help me … I can’t—”
When the boat rocketed upright, Ling was sent sailing through the back of the boat. Floating debris hit her thighs … shins … arms. When her head smashed into a bench, she let out a blood-curdling wail. Gasping in air, she scrambled to her knees. Every muscle in her body throbbed as the harsh rain hammered down on her.
Ling’s eyes raked the deck for any sign of the flares. “Oh, God, Daddy.” She coughed up water. “Help me.”
Squinting through the squall, she went down on her hands and knees. Trying to put most of her weight on the good arm, Ling slowly crawled through the turbulent mass of water, looking for any sign of the flares. When lightning zigzagged through the dark skies, she spotted the rocket-shaped cylinders circling each other.
Grimacing with every move, she trudged toward them. But every time she was close, the boat would suddenly slant, sending them soaring away.
Trying to see through the blinding downpour, inch-by-inch, she continued to track down the flares. The only thing that kept Ling from giving up was envisioning Ahna and Sammy’s faces.
“I can do this,” she whispered over and over again. Her hands stung, and her toes now as numb as her fingers, she remained still, waiting for the tide to shift.
Suddenly, an abrupt heave sent a flare rushing toward her. She slapped her hand over it, and swiftly forced the tube into the waistband of her sopping shorts. Feeling faint, she didn’t know how long she could continue without passing out. Every second, the storm grew more intense.
Her throat raw, she looked up. “Daddy,” she could barely choke out, “I can’t do this alone.”
he detective opened her cell. “Alvaraz,” she answered.
“The storm is getting stronger.” the male voice said over the speaker.
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